


I'm stuck on you (Like a bad tattoo)

by Actual_Trash_Can



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Bisexual Richie Tozier, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-04-19 19:06:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14243805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Actual_Trash_Can/pseuds/Actual_Trash_Can
Summary: "Eddie Kaspbrak hated needles. He has for as long as his memory will serve him. So why he was letting Bill drag him to a tattoo parlor to watch him get his nipples pierced was a god damn mystery."ORThe tattoo shop AU no one asked for. Richie Tozier owns "Trashmouth Studios", where he works with his friends Mike and Bev. Bill gets offered a job apprenticing under Richie, and his roommate Eddie finds himself spending much more time than he ever thought he would in a tattoo parlor.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All characters are in their mid 20's, and I ship characters, not actors.
> 
>  
> 
> Title taken from "Bad Tattoo" by Warrant

Eddie Kaspbrak hated needles. He has for as long as his memory will serve him. He hated them when he was a toddler on the solid basis that they were big and pointy, and they hurt. That was when things were simple, but of course nothing could stay simple for long. When he was a kid he started associating needles with hospital visits and doctor’s offices, sterile places where he spent most of his childhood. His mother’s yelling always background noise while the doctor of the day bent to her will and poked Eddie needlessly. He got blood taken so frequently he convinced himself he was probably immune to vampires. He had so many shots he thought he’d surely be able to visit anywhere in the world and be protected against whatever was thrown at him. He began keeping a box of all his hospital bracelets, imagining a day when they would become currency and he’d be the richest man in the world. Despite these tales he entertained to get through the years, he didn’t feel invincible. He felt far from it. He was breaking, the crack in his soul splitting a little bit further every day Sonia Kaspbrak kept control of him.

Once he turned 18, he broke free. The gears in his head had been turning for years before his moment came, and he didn’t hesitate to seize it. While Sonia was away for a weekend, leaving her unassuming son at home by himself, he packed up everything he could fit in his best friend’s car and they left. The only piece of him he left for his mother was a note.

_“Dear Mother,_

_I am sorry. I needed some time on my own to figure things out. Don’t call the cops, they can’t do anything anymore now that I am an adult. I am safe, and in good company. Please don’t try and contact me, I’ve disconnected my phone. I will contact you when I am ready._

_Love, Eddie”_

The last part was a lie, written with a clenched fist and gritted teeth, but he knew she needed hope. She needed to believe that Eddie still loved her, that he would come back one day. If she didn’t, he’s not quite sure what she would do.

Bill and Eddie arrived at their destination 2 days later, stepping foot into New York city with optimistic minds and bright futures. For three weeks they slept on the pull-out couch at the apartment of one Beverly Marsh, a childhood friend of Bill’s whom Eddie had never met. The arrangement felt strange to him at first, like they were trespassing in someone else’s life. Beverly lived with her fiancé Ben Hanscom and their three cats, who the couple lovingly dubbed their children. Eddie had felt bad when the cats took to sleeping with him and Bill in the living room every night instead of their usual spot in the bedroom with Ben and Beverly, but they insisted they thought it was endearing that their babies were giving them a “proper welcome to the house”. Once the one month mark slowly approached Eddie got wary that they may never find a place, cursed to crashing on couches for the rest of their lives, but that’s just when Bill announced gleefully that he had secured them three apartment viewings for the following few days.

Thankfully they didn’t have to worry about securing jobs just yet, having both saved thousands of dollars over their years at high school, preparing for this very moment. They were set for a few months, having time to settle in before needing to join back into the working class.

Things were going well, they finally found themselves the closest to happy they had ever been. So of course that’s when things went south.

Eddie was allergic to seafood. Of all the things in the fucking world, a piece of shrimp is what could do him in for good. He had always been careful, going as far as to make a list of all of the places that had been safe to eat at in Derry. But they weren’t in Derry anymore, and Eddie didn’t know that the restaurant they chose to eat at that night put shrimp sauce on their rice. So that’s how Eddie found himself in anaphylactic shock in the middle of a crowded restaurant, nearly dying on the gaudy carpeting as paramedics rushed into his line of sight.

And what saved him? A needle. A giant needle stabbing into his flesh, sending searing pain coursing down his leg as his vision went black.

He was fine, although Bill did rag on him for a few days, but it was probably better than dying, he guessed. However after that day, his nights started being filled with vivid dreams of death. His mother’s voice read out all the dangers in the world as if they were lullabies. He woke up in a cold sweat every night for the next year, his head swimming and his skin buzzing like it was being pricked by a thousand tiny pins.

To summarize; Eddie Kaspbrak hated needles. He has for as long as his memory will serve him. So why he was letting Bill drag him to a tattoo parlor to watch him get his nipples pierced was a god damn mystery.


	2. Chapter 2

“I don’t know why you’re willingly mutilating yourself.” Eddie mumbled under his breath, arms crossed in protest as he followed Bill into the flashy tattoo shop, endearingly titled _Trashmouth Studio_.

Bill shrugged, choosing to ignore Eddie’s comments, his eyes immediately locking with Beverly’s as they stepped through the door.

“Biggie Smalls!” Beverly shouted gleefully, running towards the two of them and pulling them into a tight hug. Eddie hated the nicknames. They were Bev’s clever way of playing on the fact that Bill’s childhood nickname had been ‘Big Bill’, and Eddie was… well small. It wasn’t the result of ingenuity, but Bev was too cute for Eddie to ever actually be irritated with her.

It had been a few years since they’d arrived in New York and had briefly stayed at the Marsh/Hanscom residence, but since then Eddie had grown much closer to the pair. It’s hard for them not to grow on you when you’re living on their couch for the good part of a month. Once him and Bill had moved into their own place, they had made it their mission to pay back Ben and Bev for their hospitality. They hosted weekly dinners for a while, Eddie babysat their cats when they went on vacation, and they paid for drinks on the occasion the group decided to go out. Eddie had never had many friends, apart from Bill who only became his friend through sheer luck that they lived a few houses apart and the Denbrough’s were one of the only families that Sonia trusted in the whole town of Derry.

So despite Eddie’s anxiety, he relaxed into Beverly’s hold for a moment, breathing in her familiar perfume and letting it calm his nerves. When they pulled away Bev kept her arm around Bill’s shoulders, leading him (and by association, Eddie) towards a small room in the back of the shop. Eddie took in his surroundings as Bill and Bev had their own conversation. The shop was extremely open, and the fluorescent lights left little to the imagination. The place was immaculately clean, Eddie noted thankfully, but it was definitely far from neat. Art littered the walls everywhere he looked, and each work station had sketches pinned around their respective area haphazardly. The little furniture they had for clients to wait in were gaudy and eclectic. Bright colours and loud patterns that clashed with each other but were arguably tied together by the accessories strewn around the room.

There weren’t many people occupying the space, Eddie could count two customers being tattooed and two artists hard at work. One, a muscular man with dark skin and soft outlines, and the other a tall man with broad shoulders and blue hair. Just as Eddie was bringing his attention back to the room he was being ushered into, his eyes locked with those of a man sitting at the front desk. His gaze on Eddie was intense, he wondered how long he’d been watching him. 

“Are you going to join us in here or just watch from the doorway?” Bill’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

Eddie forced his feet to move, joining his friends in the small bubble-pink room that Bev called her office. It was decidedly more toned down than the rest of the shop and had small additions that reminded Eddie of Beverly’s home. He decided he didn’t totally hate it.

“So, Bill, grace us with that godly figure of yours and we’ll get started.” Bev quipped.

“I’m st-starting to think th-that you agreeing to this was just a p-pl-ploy to get me naked.” Bill said as he tugged his shirt over his head.

“Well it’s working, isn’t it?” Bev shot a wink at Eddie and he responded with a tight-lipped smile.

“Alright so,” Bev picked up a swab with some disinfectant on it from her already prepped counter top and began cleaning Bill’s nipples, smiling when she received a few giggles from the boy. “We’re going to get started by lining you up with a marker and then we’ll get goin-“

“Hello beautiful people!” An unfamiliar voice interrupted from the doorway. Eddie whipped his around to put a face to the sound but discovered that the face wasn’t all too unfamiliar. It was the same one that had been trailing him minutes ago.

“Billiam Denbrough, as I live and breathe!” The man greeted Bill with a slap on the back. Eddie’s nose crinkled in confusion. How did they know each other?

“How y-you doing, Richie?” Bill greeted with familiarity.

“Same old, lost a foot fighting in ‘nam but that’s a story for another day.” Richie’s eyes trailed slowly towards Eddie. He felt like he was frozen in place. “Who’s this cutie you’ve brought with you today?”

“That’s Eddie.” Bill responded, clearly not sensing Eddie’s discomfort.

“Well, Eds, welcome to my shop!”

With that one word, something in Eddie snapped.

“Don’t call me that.” He bit back with more force than was probably warranted.

Richie didn’t seem perturbed by his reaction, in fact his features schooled into a smug grin that made Eddie’s blood boil even more.

“Righti-o, Eddi-o, I’ll put that one back in the volt. So, I saw you admiring the place when you walked in. What do you think?”

Eddie gritted his teeth at the new nickname and pondered if there was a way to send literal daggers to Richie through his eyes.

“I think it’s tacky.” Eddie shrugged negligently, receiving a surprising chuckle from Bev.

“I’ve tried to tell him, but he won’t listen.” She shrugged, bringing her attention back to Bill. Eddie could see Bev at work in his peripheral vision, marking Bill up, holding a mirror for him to look at the placement, but it was all a blur as he focused on the dumb grin on Richie’s face.

“Well, our clients know not to expect much class from Trashmouth Tozier’s.”

Eddie hated that it seemed he wasn’t able to get under Richie’s skin like he was doing to him. So instead he focused his attention back on Bill and Bev. Bill seemed to be getting a little more nervous as Bev was explaining things to him. This wouldn’t be Bill’s first piercings, but according to Bev men’s nipples are some of the most sensitive spots to get pierced. Eddie regretted Bill’s decision for him, wondering if there was a way he could convince him not to go through with this (knowing too well that there wasn’t).

“So are you ready?” Bev finally asked, as she finished listing off after-care instructions.

Bill nodded quickly in response, and then all eyes were on Bev as she lined up the piercing clamps to the area.  
“Do you need a hand to hold, Bill?” Richie implored.

Bill laughed lightly, some of his anxiety noticeably dissipating as Richie lightened the mood in he room. “I’m g-g-good Rich, but Eddie over there m-might. He’s already on the v-verge of p-p-passing out.” He joked.

“Fuck off, I’m fine.” Eddie argued, although his pale face confirmed otherwise. He watched with narrow eyes as Richie crossed the room to saddle up beside him.

“Just in case.” Richie winked, lifting his hand up towards Eddie and wiggling his fingers. Eddie rolled his eyes and made a note to ignore the presence next to him. That plan was foiled pretty quickly as he zeroed in on Bev getting the needle in place. Eddie watched in horror as the events unfolded before him. Bev counted to three, instructed Bill to take a deep breath in, and then the needle was piercing skin. Bill flinched slightly but was otherwise unfazed, Eddie on the other hand felt like the room was closing in on him. His skin was on fire, his stomach churned, and the noise in the room became a distant muffle compared to the blood rushing in his ears.

He doesn’t remember how he got there, but once Eddie’s awareness caught up to him, he was outside against a brick wall with his head between his knees. He was struggling to breathe, but a soft voice was counting him back from five, instructing him when to inhale and exhale. His body seemed to be following orders as he slowly felt his defenses lowering.

“Fuck, what happened?” Eddie’s embarrassment kicked in.

“You started to pass out, so I took you outside.” Richie shrugged, as if it was no big deal.

His body went a bit rigid at the realization that Richie was the one with him. “How did you know how to do that?” He asked anyway.

“Parents forced me into therapy when I was a teenager. For the most part it was a dud, but I did get some helpful tips out of it, like breathing exercises, or how to cure your depression with yoga and tea. And for only 250$ an hour!” Richie ended with a mock announcer voice. Eddie giggled a little, despite not wanting to. He watched as Richie grabbed a cigarette from behind his ear and fished around in his pocket for a lighter, flicking it a few times before it lit properly.

“You know smoking will kill you.” Eddie huffed out, as he swatted trails of smoke away from him.

“WHAT.” Richie yelled dramatically, throwing the half-finished cigarette to the ground with mock-disgust. “WHY DIDN’T ANYONE TELL ME!?” He stuck to his charade, a smirk fighting for dominance behind his wavering lips.

It should have felt condescending, but there was nothing malevolent behind Richie’s playful tone. In fact, Eddie found the whole thing somewhat endearing. (Although, he would never admit it.)

“Alright, smart-ass.” Eddie quipped, the roll of his eyes contrasting the the smile he wore.

“So I take it you’re feeling better, Eddie Spaghetti?”

Eddie wanted to argue against the nicknames, but after the third of the day it felt futile. He supposed this was probably just part of knowing Richie.

“I am. Thank you.”

“Anytime, babe.”

As they stood in comfortable silence while Richie finished his cigarette, for the first time Eddie really let himself take in the man before him. Richie had an odd sense of fashion, ripped jeans and a leather jacket slung over an aggressively excessive Hawaiian shirt. Peeking out from the collar he could see black ink that curved and twisted into different shapes. His dark curls were unkempt and fell against the rim of a pair of thick square glasses that sat against the bridge of his nose, disrupting the smattering of freckles that ghosted across his pale skin. His cheekbones and jaw line were strong, a stark contrast to his soft round lips that quirked up a little more on one side when he smiled. When he talked, Eddie caught sight of a silver ball on his tongue, which made him feel warm for inexplicable reasons.

When Richie had stubbed out his cigarette they both headed back inside, meeting Bill and Bev who were now standing near the reception desk.

“How are your nipples?” Richie asked Bill as he clapped him on the back, jolting Bill’s new piercings in the process.

“G-good.” Bill bit back, wincing slightly.

Richie chuckled. “Don’t worry, they stop being sore after the first few days.”

Eddie’s ears ticked up at the information that Richie had his nipples pierced. He had never been interested in them before, but the idea that Richie was hiding them under his shirt felt tantalizing. Eddie pushed the thoughts away quickly, refusing to give them any attention.

“I’m glad you came in today Bill, I actually had something I wanted to talk to you about.” Richie started. “One of our artists, Brian, is moving in a few months, and we’ve been trying to fill his spot. I don’t know if tattooing is something you’re interested in, but I remember you being a fucking magnificent artist.”

Eddie watched as Bill’s eyes lit up, feeling his heart swell at the sight of his friend’s excitement.

“If you’re interested, I’d love to have you work for me. We’d have to have you apprentice under one of us for the first few months, and you’d have to practice for a long time before you could actually work on any clients, but hopefully we could get you ready in time for when Brian’s slot opens up.” Richie finished, surveying Bill with hopeful eyes.

Bill’s enthusiasm bubbled up out of him, painting the room with his warmth. “Yes! Yes! A-a-absolutely! That’d be s-sick! T-thank you!”

“You can thank Bev, she was the one who suggested I talk to you.” Richie beamed.

Bill bounced over to Bev and swept her up in his arms, nearly dropping her moments later when the reality of hugging someone with fresh nipple piercings set in.

“Don’t you just love happy endings, Edward Spaghedward?” Richie asked, throwing an arm around Eddie’s shoulders and pulling him close so they were both facing Bill as he continued to gush to Bev.

Eddie sighed, mild annoyance evaporating under Richie’s touch.

“Four.” He said.

“What?” Richie peered down at him.

“That’s four ridiculous nicknames over the course of an hour.”

Richie’s smile radiated the sun and Eddie flushed like a sunburn.

“There’s many more to come, Eddie.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time posting anything I've written for this fandom, please be gentle. The first chapter is very short since it's just an introduction into Eddie's mind, chapters from here on out will be longer!
> 
> As always, comments and kudos keep me going. Even if you just take two seconds to type "omg" it'd mean the world to me. If you'd like to share this on tumblr, you can find it here: https://reddie4thesinbin.tumblr.com/post/172696255064/im-stuck-on-you-like-a-bad-tattoo-chapter-1


End file.
